The Dead Crusade
by Warper95
Summary: A group of mercenaries, and adventurers hired by the Psijic order are sent to investigate a vampire hideout. Their endeavors lead them into much more trouble than they expected, as they begin their quest to kill a god.
1. Chapter 1

***This is my first fanfic in a long, long while so some stuff may be "wth?" to some ppls. Nyways liek faverite subskrieb and shear dis wit yo fwends pl0xrz 420 dragonb0rne $weg**

The Dead Crusade

Chapter 1

Written by Warper95

"We should wait a bit more." Mjollnir said as he lay in the white snow. Being the only Nord out of the company of five, he had the most experience with the unforgiving cold of Skyrim, and therefore had the most tolerance.

The wood elf Bosmer didn't say anything, as he could not. He merely stared at the entrance of the cave with cold, brown eyes, like he did for the last whole hour. He expressed little, and when asked about why he went by the name 'Bosmer' and not his real name; he merely nodded silently and tapped the asker's shoulder.

"Bosmer."

The wood elf opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it. After staring at Bosmer's response, Mjollnir scratched his blonde beard and turned to the others for an answer.

"I say we go in now." A gruff voice spoke.

Mjollnir shook his head. "If we go in now, we risk compromise. We must wait for the Jarl's men to be ready."

"The men are inexperienced and stupid. They would cause more trouble than help."

"And do you, Shakh believe that you can take on a horde of Daedra worshipping-vampires with the support of only three men?"

The Orc grunted and muttered under his breath; something about 'showing him what a real Orc could do.'

"I agree with the Orc." said Faren.

"Even if we were overrun, I can make a flame cloak spell that will repel the creatures back. In that time, Shakh and Bosmer will be able to take them off easily."

"And how often do things go according to plan?"

They all turned (except for Bosmer.) to face their fifth companion, Nirn, facing them with her golden high elf eyes. Her nose was red due to the crippling cold, and she was shivering slightly.

"You're not even here to fight, elf." muttered Mjollnir.

Nirn shrugged her shoulders.

"You're right, I'm just your arcane advisor and weapon enchanter."

"The battlefield is no place for a-" Mjollnir started.

"But I'm sorry, **who** was it exactly that created those undead-killing weapons you wield now?"

Shakh laughed heartedly, and slapped her on the back, which caused Nirn to cough.

"Shh!" the Bosmer whispered.

Shakh's expression changed immediately, and he crawled in position next to Bosmer. They were quite far away from the vampires' cavern, and the mild snowstorm was perfect for hiding their location. Despite this, there were a group of the vampires moving towards them.

Shakh reached behind his back and gripped his silver axe's leather handle, and slowed his breath.

Mjollnir rummaged around his bag, and took out his sliver sword, along with a wooden bow, black as night. His eyes met Bosmer's, and whispered: "Silent and quick." Bosmer nodded, and took the bow from his hands, and grabbed an arrow from his quiver that was buried in the snow underneath him.

The atmosphere was dead silent. Only the wailing of the wind could be heard, with the faint mutterings of the vampires' as they complained about that fact that they were chosen for patrol duty, and were not chosen to partake in the ritual.

A whisper of wood and string echoed in the silence as Bosmer inhaled deeply as he drew his bow, aiming at the dark elf vampire, who was now only a few moments closer to discovering them.

Bosmer closed his eyes, and then opened them slowly. He then let the arrow free.

The arrow whistled through the wind, like a slaughterfish striking for prey, it dived into the heart of the first vampire, knocking him off his feet due to the impact of the powerful, axe-headed silver arrow. The other two vampires, eyes widened in bewilderment, merely stared at their fallen comrade, who was dead in the snow, a good five meters away from them. As the Breton vampire turned slowly to look at who the killer was, she came face-to-face with the giant, ragged edge of a silver axe, that crushed her skull with a giant shockwave of impact, creating an explosion of blood. The axe was used more like a mace than something with an edge, and the edge's purpose was only there to increase in the speed.

The third vampire, with no time to calculate-to even grasp what is going on with the situation, blindingly cast his draining spell with both hands, waving them around frantically in an attempt to scare off his attackers. This time, Mjollnir smiled slyly as he drew his silver sword, and charged like a bull, instantly skewering his enemy. The blood spurted out of his back, and life left the vampire's wide, confused eyes. Not a sound could be heard as the vampire drew his last breath, his stomach bloodying the Nord's sword.

As Mjollnir struggled to slide his sword out of the vampire's stomach, Bosmer frantically tapped Shakh on the shoulder, and imitated grabbing the bodies, and then he put his hands over his eyes.

"Hide the bodies-quick!" Shakh translated.

Mjollnir looked over his shoulder at his companions, who were hauling the bodies over them, and frantically burying them in the snow. He walked over to join them, his sword still pierced through the body of the vampire. As they buried the last of the vampires in the snow, Bosmer made a small hissing noise, and then pointed across their hiding place. There was another patrol heading their way.

"Dammit." Mjollnir muttered under his breath. The snow from where he killed the vampire still contained a few drops of crimson blood on the ground which led to their hiding place. It stood out from the pale snow, its crimson red hinting at the violence that happened on that spot.

"Bosmer. Get ready." Shakh whispered, and the wood elf nodded silently, as he reached for another arrow.

"No. Let me take care of this." Faren rose slowly from his hiding place, and began gathering Magicka around his hands.

The others didn't stop him. This mission they were on was the first time they were together. Each individual was shown to prove his or her worth during their short time spent. It was now Faren's turn to show them what skills he brought to the group.

Faren waited patiently near the bloodied snow, his black hair tied at the back fluttering in the wind. It was only a matter of seconds until the vampires noticed him, but he was almost ready. He slowly reached into his satchel and took out a scroll, in which he opened slowly.

The vampires noticed him now, this time it was only two, but they were still dangerous nonetheless. One of the vampires summoned a frost Atronach and the other prepared his ice spikes, aimed straight for Faren's heart.

Faren saw these threats, but paid no attention to them, and merely activated the scroll. The scroll glowed briefly, and then was scattered into dust, and in its place created a doorway of conjuration. It was what brought the conjurations into the realm of Nirn.

The high elf, Nirn, observing the mystical doorway, frowned. Faren's conjuration was taking too long. 'What is he summoning?' she wondered. She began to feel uneasy as the vampires dashed uphill, towards Faren with amazing speed, and the frost Atronach was not too far off either, thumping its giant feet as it chased after its summoner. The vampires Faren was facing were clearly lesser in number than the previous, but far more powerful.

Now, with only a few meters that separating them, one of the vampires shot out the ice spear out of his hand, which speeded in a perfect line, and was headed straight for Faren's heart.

The ice's journey was interrupted by a black hand crushing the ice, clad in menacing armor, as the doorway to Oblivion was finally gone. In its place stood two Dremora, both wielding a Daedric greatsword, and looking very, very, angry. The color from the vampire's faces faded, and it seemed that even their frost Atronach was filled with fear, as the Dremora charged towards the vampires.

"YOU DARE!?" One screamed.

"I WILL FEAST ON YOUR HEART!"

The vampires immediately hid behind their frost Atronach for protection, which proved futile as one of the Dremora sliced the Atronach in half, chopping of one of the vampires' head that hid behind it in the process. The other frantically made himself invisible with a spell, and ran towards the cave, but was stopped when the other Dremora leapt through the air and plunged his sword into the vampire's back, causing the body to topple onto the ground with the Dremora crushing its back with his weight and heavy boots as the shockwave of the fall created a rupture of vampire blood.

Faren nodded in appreciation as he saw his summons eliminate the enemy, and his companions looked at him with bewilderment, with their jaws wide open.

**To be continued**


	2. Chapter 2

***Without warning, here's chapter 2. I hope I go eat some decent hnfsdkjfhkasljdhflkjewnfolwhalesandnarwhals**

**Chapter 2**

"Lord Balamur. The patrols we sent haven't arrived."

Balamur looked down from his seat to find one of his vampire fledglings reporting back to him.

"How long has it been?" he asked.

"They were supposed to return at least ten minutes prior to the first phase of the ritual. Ten minutes has already passed my lord."

Balamur frowned. "Could they have been killed?"

The fledgling was hesitant. "It is not impossible… Yet it is highly improbable. They are very capable fighters."

Balamur snapped his fingers, and a human cattle mindlessly towards him. He immediately tore the human's neck off, and drank the blood out of her. Although it was easy to feed off of humans without killing them, Balamur enjoyed being excessive.

He then wiped his face with a white cloth and spoke:

"Send three more guards to investigate, and go and start the ritual immediately."

"Yes my lord."

Balamur rose from his stone throne, and marched towards the end of the hallway, to where **it** lay. He too, was surprised at what they had found. And even further surprised at what could be done with **it**. One of his minions, a high elf vampire showed him what **it** was, and ever since then, their focus was on harnessing **its** powers.

Balamur smiled as he reached the room where **it** was contained. He opened the door to find the high elf vampire examining **it**.

"Is everything ready?" He asked.

"Almost. I just need to focus on the finishing touches… This is very delicate magic you see." He replied, without looking up.

Balamur took a moment to stare at the **object**. His eyes grew mesmerized at the power.

"Come to think of it, I never did ask your name." He said to the high elf vampire.

This time, he looked up.

"I had many names throughout the ages. I've come to learn that names are not important. Call me what you will."

Balamur smiled. 'An arcane expert **and** a philosopher? Since when did I have an underling like him?' He thought.

"Throughout the ages meaning you've been a vampire for a long time, I take it?" he asked.

"Correct." He replied.

"I was there when Baar Du was halted near Morrowind, and was there when it ultimately fell as well. I stood at the gates of Oblivion, where I faced the horrors of Mehrunes Dagon. And now my journeys took me here, to this cave in Skyrim."

Balamur laughed. "You were there for not one, but two of the great events that were marked in history and legends? My friend, I do not think even vampirism keeps one immortal."

The high elf nodded, and replied:

"You are quite right. Vampirism is but a delay… To live on borrowed time… And the Daedra collect that debt."

He then smashed the **object** with a hammer, causing it to hum with power.

"It is ready." He said.

The vampire then took the **object** and began carrying it to the ritual room.

"Wait! You still haven't told me your name, friend!" Balamur shouted back at him.

The vampire stopped in his tracks and turned to him.

"Call me Vivec." He replied, and began walking back to the ritual room.

'Vivec?' Balamur thought. His brain snapped as he remembered who he was. 'A dark elf god of some sorts… What a joke.'

"And who proclaimed you god!?" Balamur shouted back.

He didn't expect an answer, so Balamur walked back to his throne to prepare for his part in the ritual.

In the hallway, the high elf 'Vivec' whispered: "The world."

**To be continued**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

In the outskirts of Winterhold, the Jarl's men began marching towards the cave in which the vampires were said to reside. They had received news of the recent rise of vampires in Skyrim, and were more than eager to eradicate the threat. Fortunately, members of the Dawnguard had joined forces with them in destroying this den, as they had records which indicated that this hideout of vampires was one of the oldest and largest of evil places in all of Tamriel.

Durak, one of the vampire hunters of the Dawnguard, led the men across, with the commander of the guards at his side.

"It's fortunate that we found this hideout before they created an even greater menace." Durak commented.

The commander nodded in agreement.

"I agree. Thank you for notifying us of its location."

Durak raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

This time the commander gave a confused look.

"I was just saying thank you… for telling us of this threat…"

Durak merely stared at the commander again, his face reflecting his confusion.

"Uuh… We didn't notify you. **You** notified **us**."

"No I'm sure it was your people!" The commander said, now slightly agitated.

"**Our** people?" Durak was agitated too now, and felt that something was clearly wrong.

"There were no members of the **Dawnguard** that were stationed here. It was also one of your mages that told us of the location of the hideout."

"A mage!?" The commander exclaimed.

"Mages don't give a damn about Winterhold! They're holed up in that college of theirs doing gods know what!"

The two men's argument could now be heard through the roaring wind, and the guardsmen were also caught in the confusion.

"I don't know what in Oblivion is happening right now. Are you sure that there even **is** a vampire den near here?" The commander questioned.

"The resources your mage-whoever showed it to us, is genuine. There is a vampire menace near Winterhold. However, whoever rallied us clearly has some ulterior motive." Durak analyzed.

The commander didn't speak for a moment, and instead looked back at his men. If there really was a vampire menace, ignoring it would bring great consequences.

"We deal with the threat first, then sort the situation out later." The commander ordered.

**To be continued **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"By the gods what in oblivion was **that!?**" Mjollnir exclaimed.

Faren, with a wave of his hand, send the two Dremora back to Oblivion. Even Nirn, their 'expert' on the arcane, was blown back at the level of skill Faren brought into their group.

Faren then walked calmly towards his comrades, with a smug smile creeping on his face.

"How's that for 'not going according to plan', Nirn?" He teased.

Nirn didn't reply as she was still in shock of what had happened.

"T-they told me-you were just a reject from the college! I thought maybe the best you could do was a flame cloak spell-" She stammered.

"No. I don't know what **they** told you, but I'm not even **from** the college. I'm actually from house Telvanni."

Nirn's eyes widened. "That explains a lot."

Their talks were interrupted by Bosmer, who began clapping in astonishment of Faren's talents.

"Thank you. You are too kind." Faren bowed.

Shakh merely grunted, and began packing.

"It's time." He announced.

They calculated the time it took for the Jarls men to arrive, and the time it took for them to execute their mission. It was now.

Their company rose and slowly made their way to the entrance of the cave, where darkness awaited them.

It was Shakh, who entered the cave first. He was the one who most fitted the task of an 'infiltrator.' Little was known about him, except for the fact that he worked as an assassin. When they met at the 'meeting', days ago, he was chosen to be their 'muscle'.

Shakh stepped into the cave, and sniffed around curiously.

"What are you doing?" Nirn whispered.

But it was Bosmer who answered that question by pointing at his eyes, and then drawing a line across the cave.

"He's scouting?"

Bosmer nodded, relieved they understood him.

"This way." Shakh whispered, as they took a passage to the left. As they passed through the tunnels, Shakh drew an arrow for the Jarl's men to follow later.

While sneaking down the path, Shakh suddenly stopped.

"Something's not right." He grunted.

"What is?" Mjollnir asked; his hand already at the blade.

Shakh gestured him that it wasn't a matter of drawing his blade, and continued.

"There should at least be some guards around… But there aren't any. I don't know what's going on, but we better be careful."

As if on cue, there were several voices across the narrow cavern.

Shakh immediately commanded the group with silent signals to take a hiding spot, but in this crowded hallway, it was near impossible.

"… And why do **WE** have to be on guard duty? It's preposterous!" shouted a vampire across the hallway.

The fact that they could hear them now was clearly a sign that they were very, very close. Shakh hid underneath a pile of dead bodies, his hand at his axe-hilt.

Through the dull torchlight, the silhouette of the creatures came closer, and Nirn held her breath after squeezing behind a cupboard. Mjollnir had opened a gate to a nearby cell, and he lay on the ground, faking death. Bosmer had done the same, and Faren was the only one who did not find a hiding place.

He knew he couldn't risk summoning his Dremora again, as their noise might alert the others, and he knew this had to be dealt with-fast. At the last minute, he ditched his pride and managed to hide beneath another pile of dead bodies.

"Hold on. I heard something." One of the vampires paused.

He snarled as he sniffed around the hall, his eyes darting left and right repeatedly, like a sabre cat hunting its prey. In his right hand was a fire spell, which was unusual for a vampire, and in his left, a lightning spell. He was next to the cupboard now, and Nirn closed her eyes tightly, in fear that the vampire may even hear her eyeballs moving in their sockets.

The other two vampires looked around slowly, until one of them came across a cell with a Nord in it. An odd, warm Nord, unlike the others who were cold due to their dead bodies. The vampire who discovered this, a dark elf, gestured to the others silently and they began preparing their spells as they slowly opened the cage gate.

"You've picked a bad time to get lost, friend." He said, as he lifted his hand to shoot an ice spike-

Which never met its mark.

The vampire, confused, slowly turned to see his hand-or what's left of it, in a bloody mess, and what remained was stuck to a stone wall, with a massive arrow pierced through it. It was no ordinary arrow, and was at least half was larger than the standard ones. Without even having time to react, the second arrow, a smaller but still deadly one, pierced his throat, spraying blood and killing him instantly. The other vampires turned to face the killer, to come face to face with Bosmer, who had already let go of his third arrow, and it swam through the air, and killed another, striking them in the throat.

"Intru-"

The vampire's scream was cut off by the Nord muffling his screams with an armored hand, and a dagger to the throat.

A fierce struggle ensued as the vampire tried clawing at Mjollnir's face-anything to be free-then silence.

Nirn slid out of the cupboard, her eyes widened.

"That was a close one." She sighed.

"Too close than I would have liked." Mjollnir laughed.

He nodded at Bosmer.

"Thank you, friend."

Bosmer gave a faint smile and nodded.

"I… Apologize." Faren said, as he stumbled out of the bodies, dusting his clothes to get the insects and dirt off.

"I didn't grow up in such an environment as you people… I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

"It better not." Shakh muttered.

"You made too much noise because you delayed too much time in hiding yourself. You almost got one of us killed."

Faren looked at the ground in disappointment.

"My… Deepest apologies, to all of you."

"That's fine." Mjollnir said, as he cleaned his dagger on the robes of the dead vampire.

"Just be careful next time."

Faren nodded. He was determined to fail them again, but even more determined not to soil his name.

"Everyone ready? Let's move on." Shakh said.

**To be continued**


	5. Chapter 5

***Dear people who have the generosity to read my fanfic: Please give me a response! Criticism, anything is welcome! I wanna see a response… Plox…**

**Chapter 5**

Balamur stood next to his fellow vampires in a circle, with the **object;** Azura's star in the middle. 'Vivec' was in the middle of the circle, and was murmuring mysterious chants in some unknown language. Balamur was still in awe at the fact that one of the great artifacts of the Daedra was found in this cave. However, he did not see what to do with the artifact, as they did not realize how to utilize its power. That's when Vivec showed them that the star could be used to house a powerful soul… Such as a dragon's.

When questioned of the potential of enchantments a dragon's soul could offer, Vivec responded with a smile.

"Endless." He replied.

Blinded by the want for more power, Balamur agreed to help with the ritual, ignoring the other vampires' pleas. And so, after losing two thirds of the vampire group, they managed to trap the dragon's soul inside the star. However, that was not enough. Vivec had told them that to enchant with a dragon's soul, the artifact must be prepared accordingly, as Azura's star was never meant to hold the soul of such a powerful creature, and therefore on this day, the ritual was beginning.

Vivec now lay on the ground, with the star on his chest, and his face to the ceiling.

"Lielle. Prepare the knife, and the Daedric heart." Vivec said.

Lielle nodded, and walked towards Vivec with an ebony knife in one hand, and a Daedric heart in another. After kneeling beside him, she inhaled deeply, and then plunged the knife into his heart.

Vivec roared in pain, but did not struggle. Fear took ahold of Lielle's eyes, as she feared of failing the ritual. Vivec put so much faith in her, but she was scared.

'What if I do it wrong? What if he dies?' millions of thoughts, raced across her mind, as her heart began thumping loudly and fast. Her eyes began shaking, and she was about to stand when-

"Do… It… Right…" came a gurgled groan from Vivec.

And that was all she needed. He mind snapped back into reality, with only one thought, a truth on her mind: "He won't die, if I do it right." Lielle's hands moved quickly and precisely, cutting open Vivec's heart, and replacing it with a Daedric heart. She then put the star inside with the Daedric heart, and cast an alteration spell with a healing spell on it, creating a glowing red misshapen ball of beating flesh, which she replaced with Vivec's heart. She sighed as she reached for the final steps of the ritual, and sewed the wound shut, healing it at the same time. Now it was only a matter of time before he awoke.

Balamur watched the ritual like the other vampires: With a mix of disgust and intrigue. He looked at Lielle, another vampire he had not seen until discovering this cave. She was beautiful, having red hair that was tied at the back in a tail, and eyes that were sharp, but did not give a threatening glare. He lips were red as well, like her hair, adding to her beauty.

'Possibly she was feeding before the ritual.' He thought, observing her lips.

Lielle wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, and stood up, dazed from the whole experience. Parts of her hair clung to her neck and skin, making her look oddly seductive.

"He will wake up soon." He told Balamur.

Balamur looked up from looking at her breasts.

"Oh. Yes… Right, and then what? Does he enchant the weapons?"

Lielle frowned as she realized what the vampire leader was thinking.

"Yes. He will." He told him, and walked away from the ritual circle.

"Where are you going?"

"To wipe this damn blood off." she said without looking back.

"But don't you need to be present for this?"

"I'm not interested in the 'power' you're getting."

Balamur raised an eyebrow.

'Who doesn't want power?' He thought.

The vampires were told that after Vivec awakes, they would gain the ability to wield the weapons that would be enchanted, as Vivec explained: 'Dragon soul enchanted weapons cannot be wielded by mere mortals.'

So they waited patiently around Vivec's corpse.

"Balamur…"

It was one of the vampires that broke the silence.

"Hmm?" He asked.

"This so called… Vivec? You say?"

"Yes, he called himself that."

"Why haven't we heard of him before?"

Balamur was confused.

"I know our group is larger than any other in Skyrim, but didn't we live long enough to remember each other's names?" He asked.

"I-I assumed one of you knew him." Balamur replied, slightly stuttering.

"No… We never heard of him until we found this cave. Also… If he says he's one of us… Shouldn't he have turned into dust by now?"

Balamur's eyes widened with confusion as he turned to face Vivec's body, which was still, clearly flesh and blood.

"That can't be right." Balamur said, now reassured.

"We would have been able to sense that. It's probably a side effect of the ritual." He replied, facing the questioning vampire with reassurance. This debate had made him fear that this Vivec had tricked him, but he was determined to prove them wrong.

"Or perhaps it takes less effort than most think, to fool a bloodsucker." A voice spoke.

It was a clear and demanding voice that did not echo in the room, but it echoed in their minds. They looked down to see Vivec, now awoken, flexing his fingers.

"What…?" Balamur questioned.

"You were fools to believe I'd even waste such a powerful dragon's soul on something as stupid as a weapon enchantment." He answered Balamur's dumbfounded look.

He stood up and looked around at the vampires, and the vampires looked back.

The vampires now saw the same high elf with the name of a god, but his eyes were that of a normal high elf. It did not glow yellow like theirs, a sign of vampirism.

Balamur, both outraged and confused, snarled at this traitor, who **dared** to oppose the leader of the greatest group of vampires in all of Skyrim, and dashed to charge at him.

Vivec opened his mouth, and the last thing they heard was a deafening cry, in the language of the dragons.

**To be continued**


	6. Chapter 6

***Anyone out there reading this crap? Send me a PM or anything srsly I feel so alone here. Could use some friends.**

**Chapter 6**

Lielle stood outside the ritual room leaning on the door, as she closed her eyes as she heard the screams of the vampires. She was relieved that the ritual succeeded, but she also knew that this was only the first step in becoming a god.

She sighed as she reached into her satchel and took out a golden potion. She drank it slowly, ignoring its sour and bitter taste.

As she wiped her lips, her eyes turned back to their normal color: black; and her skin were no longer pale. She also felt warmer, and she gave out a gasp at being reminded what it was like to be 'normal' again. They had been ingesting a complex potion that imitated the effects of vampirism, although it did not give them enhanced powers. However, it was the only way to gain the creatures' trust.

Upon the discovery of Azura's star being housed in the cave, the two had been plotting and trying to find out a way to infiltrate the vampire nest and take the star for their own plans. Thing could not have been better when they realized not only did the vampires not know what the star was, but they also did not even know that it was even in the cave. She was merely astonished at how far the vampires have gone, without extensive historical and magical knowledge.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door behind her giving a push. Realizing she was blocking the way, she quickly moved out of the way for Vivec to exit.

He was covered in blood and vampire dust, but none his. He merely walked out of the room and she followed him.

"How did it go?" She asked carefully. It was a ritual he had theorized, but she had performed. She was still worried of the level of effectiveness someone of her level of magical expertise proved, compared to his.

"It was fine." He replied.

Vivec flexed his fingers again, and whispered:

"Laas yar nir."

Then he looked around the dark room. He smiled.

"What does that one do?" asked Lielle.

"Detect life." He replied.

He stood there, in the dark hallway, a tall silhouette rivaling the charisma of a statue of Talos.

'He's really powerful now.' Lielle thought.

'But he still wants more.'

"Come Lielle. It will be a while before we can conduct the next part of the process, and I don't intend to die here by some vampire hunters. I'll need to go back to the ship."

"Are your wounds ok? I've tried to heal them the best I could, but-"

"Lielle. They're fine. Now we can't afford to waste any more time. Soon, they will reach us."

"…Alright. Just let me know if you need healing."

Vivec began walking out of the hallway, and Lielle followed behind him, only being able to imagine the possibilities that had been unlocked to them.

**To be continued**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Did you hear that?" Faren whispered.

They were close to the ritual chamber now, where their employers told them that the **object** that needed to be retrieved was. As they drew closer to the room, they heard the inhuman screams of pain that echoed in the caves.

Nirn shivered.

"Those screams were… horrifying." She muttered.

Shakh was being especially careful now, not knowing what they would run into. He even drew his other axe, though this one was made of Orichalcum, and not silver. He gritted his teeth in anticipation. He knew whatever caused that noise was not a foe to be overlooked. And at the same time, he was excited to meet something-or someone that was powerful enough to make him tremble with anticipation.

Bosmer tapped Shakh on the shoulder.

"What is it?" He whispered.

Bosmer pointed at himself, then his eyes, and gestured towards the hallway that leads to the room where the screams came from.

"You're gonna go ahead and scout?"

Bosmer nodded in response.

Shakh nodded back, and Bosmer crept along the ground like a snake, his movements so silent that they could hear their breathing over his footsteps.

As soon as he entered the hallway, his eyes met with a tall Altmer wearing a black robe, with a Breton woman standing behind him.

Bosmer did not react, but kept calm, frozen in his position, scanning the elf with his eyes, gathering information-anything he could use against him. His bow was already drawn, and all he had to do was let go of the string, but something told him this was no normal foe.

The high elf didn't react either, and stood there, staring at Bosmer. The Breton woman began gathering flames in her hands as soon as she realized Bosmer had drawn his arrow.

The high elf raised a hand in response, a signal to the Breton woman, and after some hesitation, she extinguished her flames.

Bosmer twitched slightly, but his aim was now locked at the high elf's heart. He knew the others would jump from behind the wall if he took too long, and he knew they would have the upper hand.

'Yet why am I so afraid?' he asked himself.

"Four… No. Five of you are here, yes?" The high elf asked. He had a deep, voice that strangely echoed in his mind. It was as if his words were spoken by something other than a mortal being.

Bosmer's eyes widened. 'How did he know?' He asked himself.

"Don't worry. I won't kill you if you do not try to harm us." He continued.

It was then Shakh heard the voices, and dashed from behind the wall, in a bloodrage, charging towards the high elf like a wild thing.

Bosmer didn't even see him come out from the wall, and when he did, he was only stunned at the speed he had charged towards the Altmer. The Orc was a red blur, with axes like a monster's canines about to strike down at the high elf.

"Tiid Klo Ul!" The elf shouted. And in an instant, Shakh was sent flying back, out of the hallway entrance.

Bosmer took pride in his fast eyes, picking up details quickly, but even he couldn't see what just happened. And for the first time in his very experienced life as a mercenary, he felt fear. He panicked, and let go of his string.

The axe-headed arrow whistled towards the heart of the high elf, which was met by his hand, breaking the arrow in two as it was met by the humming of a ward spell.

Bosmer's hand flew to his quiver, attempting to fire another arrow when this time, Mjollnir and Faren both charged in to help him, Mjollnir swinging his greatsword as he dashed towards the elf, and Faren already summoning the Dremora with his scroll.

The Altmer raised a greater ward this time, dual-casting the spell, and blocking a heavy blow from Mjollnir. The two Dremora now came to assist the Nord, with their greatswords held high.

"Fus Ro Dah!"

Instantly, a great force pushed all of them out of the hallway, smashing their skulls against the stone wall behind them and rendering them unconscious.

The dust settled, and Vivec sighed.

"You can come out now." He told Nirn, who was hiding behind the wall.

Determined to act, she drew her silver dagger and cast a frost Atronach in front of her.

The giant Atronach charged mindlessly towards the elf, like so many had done so before.

This was met by another sigh from Vivec, as he blasted a purple spell at the Atronach, sending it back to whatever realm it was summoned from.

"I won't hurt you-if you answer my questions." He told her.

Nirn knew this was an opponent she couldn't win, even if she made a deal with the Daedra.

"Don't worry. Your friends will probably survive this." He continued.

"Who told you to come here?" He asked.

Nirn didn't answer, determined to keep her order's identity a secret.

"He asked you a question!" The Breton woman shouted at her angrily.

"Come now, Lielle. She's just afraid."

Vivec walked towards the high elf mage that tried to attack him. She seemed to shrink with every step he took towards her.

"Who do you work for?" He asked again, this time his tone was more commanding and powerful.

"Th-the Psijic Order." She stammered.

Vivec looked surprised.

"The Psijic Order?" He repeated.

"Yes." She replied, still shaken.

Behind him, Lielle commented: "That was quick of them."

Vivec stood motionless, lost in thought for a moment, and then his mind lit up.

"Alright. Go and tell the Psijic Order that their god has returned."

He tapped her on the head, and walked out of the hallway, with Lielle following him.

"What do you mean god?" Nirn shouted back at the tall figure.

The high elf stopped in his tracks and turned slowly to face the timid mage. To Nirn, he looked magnificent in the darkness of the cave. He seemed to radiate an odd light, and had a dominating presence around him.

"I am Vivec." He replied, and then proceeded to walk away, with the Breton accompanying him.

As soon as they fell out of sight, Nirn collapsed on her knees, trembling at the power that the elf had held, shocked at how some of the most capable warriors of Skyrim had fallen under the power of a single mage.

**To be continued**

***As always, comments, favs, and msgs are greatly appreciated. Thank you.**


	8. Chapter 8

***Eye infection today. Hurts like a B. Won't be writing until next week I think. I dunno. Maybe I'll upload my secret stash of chapters.**

**Chapter 8**

Lielle was astonished at the power in which Vivec had destroyed the mercenaries, but at the same time she was worried for him. The ritual's idea was to imitate the power of a dragonborn; however it was done at the cost of the user's life force. Therefore, the weak, normal heart of an elf was replaced by a Daedric heart, the most suitable substitute.

Vivec walking out of the cave, Vivec stumbled over slightly, as he grabbed his heart.

'I knew it.' Lielle thought as she bit her lip.

She rushed to his aid, but he pushed her away lightly.

He wiped his mouth, filled with blood and smiled at her reassuringly.

"I'm fine. I just need time for the heart to synchronize with my body."

"You don't look fine." She sighed, and immediately began healing him.

Vivec relaxed himself as Lielle touched his chest with small delicate hands, with the healing spell radiating a golden glow. The snow piled up slowly on her red hair, and she began shivering.

"That's enough for now." Vivec said, as he pushed her hands away from him lightly. He knew that if he had just said 'that was enough', she would've been persistent; therefore he decided an act was necessary.

"Are you sure?" Lielle looked up at him with worried, night-black eyes.

"The healing's only temporary anyway." He responded. He stood up, and faced towards the road, near Winterhold.

"We leave for Solstheim immediately." He said.

Lielle walked beside Vivec, and looked down towards the road. She sank her face in his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Lielle. We should go."

"Just a minute…" She muttered.

"We won't get much time to be together like this once the second part of the ritual starts, so… Please…"

Vivec's eyes fell down to her.

'I should keep her safe… Away from the impending bloodshed…' He thought to himself.

In that short time, minutes seemed like hours to Lielle. The footsteps through the wind however, woke her back to reality.

"Stay here." Vivec told her.

He walked down the road, and came face to face with a small army of guardsmen, and members of the Dawnguard: A group of vampire hunters.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" An Orc asked.

Vivec scanned the army. They clearly would be difficult to deal with, in his state.

"I'm simply a mage from the college, friend." He replied.

"Ha! With those necromancer robes? I don't think so, elf." Said a guardsman.

Vivec frowned. He forgot that he was still wearing his vampire disguise.

"Are you part of the vampire group? No, what am I saying… I don't care!" Another guard shouted.

In an instant, the organized group of soldiers dispersed, and with trained movements, they charged at Vivec with various weapons.

'When will these humans learn?' He thought to himself.

"Tiid Klo Ul!"

Durak blinked. When he opened his eyes, the entire front line lay dead, in the snow.

The remainders of the army were stunned. Various shouts of confusion could be heard.

"That was the shout! How does he have the shout!?"

"He's not the Dragonborn! The Dragonborn is a Nord! Kill him, quick!"

The second wave of soldiers charged in with a greater number than the first, but with much more hesitation. Their eyes were no longer of that of a hunting predator, but were of scared prey.

Vivec's hands glowed with a light-blue aura, as he stretched towards the soldiers.

And with a deafening crackling noise, a beam of electricity shot out of his hands, searing off the unlucky soldier who was directly in front of him. The soldier's skin burned, and his blood sizzled at the extreme intensity of the spell, and the other soldiers behind him shared the same fate.

Some exceptionally lucky ones managed to dodge the stream of lightning, and the ones who were even daring were now advancing towards Vivec, from a different direction.

Vivec acted swiftly. He moved his hands in a sweeping motion towards the soldiers, and destroyed their bodies completely, leaving only a trail of ash. The lightning was like a giant knife, cutting through the soldiers like butter. The snow path was now a mix of human flesh turned ash, and the smell of heated skin hung in the air.

"Let's go quickly. I hate to kill civilians due to the trouble it brings afterwards." He stated.

Lielle nodded, and followed behind him, as they ran down the snowy path, headed towards their ship near the shores of Winterhold.

**To be continued**

***As always, Likes, Favs, Comments and PMs are greatly appreciated. Thank you.**


	9. Chapter 9

***Whoop de doo. A new chapter. 'Yay.'**

**Chapter 9**

Two days had passed since the incident at the vampire's cave. The mercenaries were hospitalized, being taken care of the finest healers of the College. And Nirn kept close watch on them, while awaiting orders from the mercenaries' employers.

"They should be fine soon. I think that this would be the last day of the treatment." A healer told her.

Nirn nodded in appreciation.

The citizens of Winterhold were still quite in shock after seeing the pale-faced Nirn rush towards the Jarl's longhouse, asking for immediate assistance. With the remainder of some troops, they retrieved the injured mercenaries, and the remains of the soldiers. Many mourned for their losses.

Healing the mercenaries was no easy task either. Most of the mages at the college did not study the art of restoration enough to be considered a verified healer, except very few. So the treatment was done with a combination of alchemy and healing magic. All of them had bones that were shattered into pieces, bruises that gave pain even to those who merely looked at them.

'The wounds will heal… But not their pride…' Nirn thought.

She sighed and sank into her chair. She had failed.

Being a member of the Psijic order, she had been given the task to retrieve Azura's star which had somehow got lost during its transportation to the shrine of Azura. However, her superiors had ordered her to acquire the help of others, so she had decided to hire some of the most powerful mercenaries in Skyrim. As a backup plan, she had also called the Jarl's men, in case things would go awry. She did not simply expect to come face to face with such a powerful being.

Suddenly, the world around her seemed to change its color, and feel heavy. Magic was in the air.

She felt a hand on the shoulder to see her superior and friend, Nerein standing behind her.

She bit her lip and looked up at him.

"I failed." Her voice cracked slightly. She hoped he wouldn't notice.

"You haven't. Yet." He replied.

"But… The mage got away with the star… And he killed all those people…"

Nerein paused before he spoke. "That was… inevitable. Now your job is to change the dark future we have foreseen."

"Why did you choose me to do such an important task? Why didn't you do it, Nerein? I'm not even officially part of the Order yet…" He voice was shaking heavily now, but she did not care.

Nerein sighed heavily.

"We tried. But you know how the order is… Busy… We try to shape the history to the best scenario possible, with our limited amount of members. You know this."

She nodded in silence. She did know this. But she felt hopeless and weak, and guilt filled her heart. When she first stepped out of the cave, she saw the dust and smelt the blood in the wind. She instantly realized what had happened, and her fear almost gave her a heart attack.

Nerein began twitching slightly, and the magical aura around them began fading.

"It looks as if it is time for me to go. I know you will do well for us, Nirn. Trust the men you have hired. They will aid you still, for nothing is a greater motivation than humiliation."

And with that, Nerein vanished, and the room felt lighter. Nirn wrinkled her brow. She could never get used to the type of magical communication the Order used. It felt as if she had been trapped by the pressure of water for a long time, and then somebody removed the water.

She looked around the room. Bosmer, Shakh, Faren and Mjollnir all lay in their beds, some groaning in pain and others completely silent.

'Will these men really be able to defeat a god?' She asked herself. They were indeed, significant individuals who have pushed themselves to the limit of what mere mortals could do, but it was impossible to know.

She rubbed her head with small hands, and put her dark-blue mage hood over her short brown hair.

"Get well soon. You have a big battle waiting for you." She whispered.

**To be continued**

***LIKES, FAVS, ALERTS AND PMS ARE APPRECIATED. THANK YOU.**


	10. Chapter 10

***Hello everyone. I'd just like to say a few things before the story. I'd first like to thank the many people who've watched this horrible garbage, but I'd also like to request some people to PLEASE give me feedback, whether it be good or bad. Having no response makes me unsure how to improve upon my work. So please, send your PMs, and anything else to me. Thank you.**

**Chapter 10**

The elf ran across the burning village, with panic in his eyes. Each heartbeat resonated in his mind, like an unending drum beat, while the screams of thousands of men and women caused a choir of pain.

He could bear it no longer. He looked at his superior for help. But instead of answers, he just got more orders.

"These are the soldiers of Cyrodil. The enemies to the Aldmeri Dominion, and as members of the Thalmor, we must do our duties to execute them with no exceptions."

The elf shook his head frantically, crying out in defiance, claiming that the ghosts of the victims haunt him every day-but his superior did not listen.

With a quick movement, he punched the coward elf, and spat on him.

"You're a disgrace to the Thalmor." He told him.

The elf lay on the ground, crying, tears mixed with blood from the woman he had killed, still fresh on his hands.

He did not move, and he welcomed the arcane blade that came to his throat; a military execution to eliminate the weak.

**To be continued**

***I know this chapter is short... I promise I will compensate for it tomorrow. Sorry about the shortage of content lately.**


	11. Chapter 11

***Holy crap guys, not a single response yet. No comment, nothing. Completely jack shit. Why do you people even read this then lol**

**Chapter 11**

Vivec woke up. He had fallen asleep meditating again. He wiped his forehead, and was surprised to see how much he had sweat. He sighed and stood up. He was on the crow's nest of the ship, and despite the cold temperatures, he was only wearing ragged pants. He looked down to see the crew moving quickly and efficiently, like little worker ants. He then began making his way down from the crow's nest.

"I see you're back with us." The Captain said.

Vivec looked down from his descent to see a red Argonian with his arms crossed, observing Vivec with his yellow, reptilian eyes.

"Hello Captain." Vivec greeted him. And with that, he jumped off the remainder of the mast and landed with a thump.

"How much longer until we reach Solstheim?" He asked.

The Captain thought for a moment, as he scratched his scaly chin with sharp claws. They had been sailing for a whole day now, but there was a giant mist that now hung around their way, rendering them blind.

"I do not know for sure." He replied.

"The mist causes a lot of trouble for us. We can't just simply go full speed, only to crash into an iceberg and shatter our ship." The Captain concluded. Vivec sighed, and looked around. He knew he could clear the weather with his Thu'um if he wanted to, but he couldn't risk using more of the dragon's power, as it takes a toll on his body.

"How long do you estimate?" He asked again.

The Captain gave him a puzzled look. "Like I said, I don't know the-"

"Your **best** guess Captain. Please. I've hired you to do this, so you best give me an answer, no?"

The Captain sighed heavily, and inhaled from his pipe.

"Four… No… Maybe three days." He muttered.

Vivec's raised an eyebrow. It was less than he had expected.

"Very well. Thank you Captain." Vivec said, and he nodded the Captain goodbye and made his way down to the sleeping quarters.

He saw Lielle sleeping in the huge bed, filled with various furs. Each breath she drew resonated in the silent room, and Vivec smiled at how peaceful she looked. She was truly free now, right at this moment. She wasn't concerned about his health, about the whole plan, or about anything, as was his with from the start.

He quietly moved across the room, his feet kissing the ground gently, in fear of triggering a squeaky plank. He sat down on the bed, next to her, and stroked her hair gently.

To his surprise, she was already awake.

"Are you done with your meditating?" She mumbled; her eyes still closed.

"I didn't know you were awake." He said, and stood up.

She grabbed his arm quickly.

"No. Stay." She looked up at him, tempting him with her black eyes, reflecting the candlelight. In the small space of the room, the glow of the candle seemed to be absorbed into her light-bronzed skin, adding to her beauty.

In the end, Vivec gave in. He collapsed into the bed next to her, and she laughed lightly. She felt reassured, that he was still hers. This mission of his had not consumed him completely. He still had his mortal needs. He wasn't a god… Yet.

She instantly went for his lips, kissing him gently at first, but gradually getting more passionate. Vivec let her take control. He could tell she needed this.

She was the one who could make him forget about everything, but also she represented everything he stood for. She was the reason for every spell he cast that would rip a man into a bloody mess; she was the reason for every artifact stolen.

Suddenly, he pulled away from her face, surprising her.

"This might be the last time that we're together like this… Until I finish the plan…" He said.

She sighed, and touched his cheek with her hands.

"Way to ruin the moment." She smirked.

He smiled in response.

"We better make the most of it then." She said, and she wrapped her arm around his neck, and dragged him to her side of the bed.

**To be Continued**

***Like, Recommend, Review, PM, etc pl0x**


	12. Chapter 12

***Starting to hate you guys. Seriously? Not a single response? Wow. So I don't even know if you guys are actually reading this cos you like it or not. Thanks a lot you basterds.**

**Chapter 12**

In the dead silent room of the college, Bosmer's eyes shot open.

He had been incapacitated for days now, and he struggled to even move a single finger.

'What happened?' He thought. He lay motionless, and began to retrace his steps-He remembered a timid high elf hiring him for an expedition into a cave, something about retrieving an artifact from a coven of vampires. His mind seemed to crack as he remembered the pain inflicted on him, both physically and mentally. He opened his mouth, and it quivered. If he still had his vocal chords, he would have produced a scream of humiliation and pain, but nothing came out.

With freshly sewn scars vomiting blood as he forced himself up, he staggered to the doorway to get out of his room. Each muscle in his body twitched, and each sinew began tearing at the body. He was pushing his body using sheer will. He looked around to see all the other beds empty, except for one. This bed had a body with a sheet drawn over its head.

'So someone did die.' Bosmer thought.

He bit his lips as he began staggering towards it, and with trembling hands, he pulled up the sheet to meet the face of a Nord with golden hair.

Bosmer sighed heavily, and began analyzing the body to see what had caused his death. To his surprise, the body's scars were completely mended, like his. He was confused now.

'We sustained almost the same injures… It hurts like hell but how is he dead?'

His thoughts were interrupted by an ear shattering scream heard throughout the halls of the college. He turned, and followed the sound.

There, he saw the Orc Shakh tied to a stone table with chains and weights, roaring out in pain so inhumanely that it made Bosmer hurt to watch. Nirn stood next to him, her expression neutral, calm as a sea as she held an alembic with her right hand, that was emptying its red contents through a rubber piper and into Shakh's mouth. The alembic was almost empty now, but Shakh's thrashing did not cease. The shackles that bound him began to crack, as nails began to be forcefully unscrewed, squeaking and shrieking at the pull.

Bosmer held his breath, unable to believe what he was seeing. Questions raced into his head, but what puzzled him most was that the magician's expression remained cold. Her eyes were no longer the worried child that came to hire them.

Shakh now remained limp, and he was no longer breathing. Blood and the odd liquid oozed out of his mouth, and dripped to the stone table. It was then Nirn's neutrality broke, as she covered her face and began weeping softly.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She repeated under her breath.

Bosmer didn't need to see the rest. He leaped from behind the wall, and his fingers reached for Nirn's throat, Nirn, unable to comprehend Bosmer's survival, locked his gaze on him with her wide, wet eyes as she frantically tried to block his hand, to no avail.

Bosmer's fingers tightened. He was weak, but he was far superior physically. With one snap he could-

"I'm… Not… Please…" Nirn gasped for air.

Bosmer ignored her, and let his fingers to the talking.

Nirn's vision was blurred now, and her mouth opened and closed, hoping to force down at least some air into her lungs. She began slapping Bosmer's face, struggling for breath.

Suddenly they heard a massive roar from the table. Bosmer, trained not to be distracted when taking a life, was not fazed, but he felt the danger behind him. Whatever it was, he had to act quickly.

For Nirn however, her eyes that were reflecting her desperation of life and fear changed more into astonishment as she saw Shakh rise from the stone table, but he was larger than before, now a hulking giant. Nirn desperately pointed towards Shakh, trying to signal Bosmer. Bosmer's hand twitched, and after a strong squeeze, he let go of her. Nirn fell unto the stone floor, and her lungs felt the air inside them again.

Bosmer turned to see Shakh, and was surprised he was still alive. What surprised him more was that he had changed. He was at least a head's worth bigger than he was before, and his shoulders were bulging with unnatural muscles, with veins that twitched disgustingly. His skin was red, like that of an Orc who has unleashed its bloodrage, but now being his natural color. He could no longer be called a proud Orc, but he was more close to a monster.

Shakh turned to face Bosmer, with piercing eyes like that of a vampire's: Glowing with an eerie orange.

"That hurt like shit." Shakh blurted out.

Bosmer snapped out of his astonished gaze, surprised that he was still himself. He grabbed a nearby quill and parchment from the nearby table and wrote rapidly.

"What happened?" Bosmer wrote.

Shakh glanced at the paper, and replied. "We were all severely injured by that weird mage in the cave. I'm sure you remember that."

Bosmer nodded.

'The one who calls himself Vivec.' He thought.

"Well it turns out our employer over there-" He pointed at Nirn, who was still collapsed on the ground, eyes teary and struggling to maintain breath control.

"Is working for the Psijic Order. Her superiors needed to stop the mage's plans, and to do that we needed to take the artifact… But we lost." Shakh gritted his teeth, which were much larger than before. His fangs were now more like a wild animal's.

"So she gave each of us a choice." Shakh continued. "Either go home and watch Tamriel be ruined by this mage, or continue working for her and hunt that son of a bitch down."

Bosmer wrote quickly again.

"Why were you tied to the stone bed? Why is Mjollnir dead?"

Shakh snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Mjollnir's dead?" He asked Nirn.

Nirn massaged her throat gently, and she replied in a groggy, weak voice. "The experiments did not bode well for him… He died."

Her eyes darted to Bosmer, now filled with anger.

"I was improving you all. If you were faced with him again, you would all be too weak to fight him!" She shouted defiantly.

"Hurts like shit though." Shakh coughed.

"You chose to be like this?" Bosmer asked on paper.

Shakh nodded. "I believe it was necessary… I'm an Orc anyway. Glory over death, right?"

Bosmer shook his head in dismay, and turned his gaze towards Nirn. She was slowly getting up now, and the raging fire in her eyes had died out. She was a very understanding character.

'Anyone would have acted like me in that situation… It's not my fault.' Bosmer reassured himself.

He then frowned, and wrote rapidly again. He was frustrated that his writing speed could not be any faster, and cursed to himself when the ink was smudged under his hand.

"What happened to Faren?" He asked.

This time, Nirn answered his question.

"Faren was the first to finish his experimentation. He's now outside, testing his abilities in the snow." She replied.

Nirn covered her mouth as she coughed, her eyes reflecting the pain in her throat. To her surprise, there was blood on her hand.

'That Bosmer sure has a strong grip…' She thought to herself.

Nirn walked closer towards Bosmer and took his hand. Bosmer responded with a confused look.

"What will it be?" She asked, her expression showing the neutrality of before.

"Will you run? Or will you fight?" She asked again.

Bosmer glanced at the bloody table, now being cleaned by Shakh.

He slowly turned and looked at Nirn.

**To be continued**

***Like, PM, Follow, Recommend... Oh what's the bloody point, none of you will do it anyway ;)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The young Thalmor soldier ran.

An arrow whistled past him, barely missing his ear by an inch. He was leaving a trail of blood that his pursuers picked up easily. The path was easy to follow, but the speed of the Altmer was not.

The soldier had no time to cry – There was no time for sympathy. War was about survival. He had learnt that when he reacted at the last minute when he was about to be executed. They had shot an artery however, and he was either going to die in their hands or bleed out.

He swallowed the pain, and carried on. The landscape was unusual to him, and he needed shelter – fast. His eyes, frantically scanning the area, he spotted a small shack near a waterfall.

It seemed empty at a glance, and he decided to take his chances. With one hand gripping his wound, and the other holding a fireball, he slammed the door open and collapsed on the sheets of the bed immediately.

He was tired. Too tired to realize that there was a hidden trapdoor next to the bed. Too tired to see it opening, and too tired to react to the stranger grabbing him by his legs and dragging him down.

**To be continued**

***Like, PM, Share, Recommend, Favorite, Etc plz. It helps.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Fire.

Being a dark elf, it was natural that Faren was drawn to the element of fire. He had mastered the destruction spells that yielded great flame explosions that burnt his enemies to a crisp. However, he was always crippled by the fact that he contained a far lesser amount of magicka than the average mage. He wasn't expected to accomplish much, even under the influence of House Telvanni, and so he left, in hopes of seeking methods to improve his skills, to try and overcome his boundaries. He had decided to use scrolls; a magic spell contained in each parchment, he was able to cast them without using magicka. However this method proved expensive, and non-efficient. Nevertheless, he had felt proud, and somewhat, satisfied.

'But now…' Faren thought, as he gazed at a nearby glacier.

He extended his arm, which was embedded with soul gem fragments, with runic symbols carved into them, and was wrapped in bandages. The bandages itself were soaked in a mixture of Mora Tapinella and Ectoplasm, and gave an eerie blue glow. He grasped a fireball in his hand, and the symbols glowed red, and the gems hummed pleasantly.

And yet, he hardly felt any magicka escape him. He felt like he could fire at least fifty – no, one hundred fireballs consecutively – and still have enough for two hundred more.

Excited by the thought, he fired the spell at the glacier. An explosion of flames impacted the glacier, and half the ice was blown away in an instant. Not just the quantity of magic, but also the quality had been improved. He smiled.

He shouted triumphantly, as he began firing rapidly and crazily at all his surroundings, laughing like a madman. With this power, he felt that not only he could defeat the mage from before, but also learn other magic that the house wizards restricted in teaching him, claiming that it would be a 'waste of time teaching a brat who cannot even summon an Atronach normally.'

Fire burned brightly in his eyes, fueled by the thought of defeating the so called god.

**To be continued**

***I'm sick so uploads will be late.**


	15. Chapter 15

***My thanks to Skyhanhunter who took his time to write a short review for this series.**

**Chapter 15**

The vast ashlands of Solstheim is unforgiving. One could almost argue that they exceed the harsh cold of Skyrim. Nevertheless, the residents of this land have learnt to adapt. The dark elves that once worshipped the tribunal had returned to serving their chosen Daedra, after the tragedy at Red Mountain. In a way, they were repaying for their crimes. The Tribunal seemed to be lost in the midst of time. There were few that remembered, and fewer that knew what the demi-gods were capable of.

Maeoni Almu was neither one of these people. He was a man of fortune, a scoundrel, who sought for treasure hidden in the darkest, most forgotten parts of Tamriel. Greed had been his only driving force throughout his life, even when he worked briefly as a merchant; he had sold stolen goods, and had even been accused of grave robbery.

Oddly enough, he was never caught. That's what he believed made him special. And today, he awaited another 'client', who had promised him a substantial amount of gold for the remains of someone who had died long, long ago. When he first received details of the 'order', he was surprised. Not because the client wanted to buy a corpse, (as he had previous dealings with necromancers) but he was surprised to find out that the corpse was almost impossible to retrieve. His head strained at the amount of strings he would need to pull in order to even get a look at the corpse itself.

In the end, Maeoni triumphed and returned, hiding the corpse in a secret compartment inside his wagon, and escaping the area quickly to reach the rendezvous point.

Now he waited patiently, for his client. He had never met the man, and was told that the client would identify himself with a certain phrase, in which Maeoni would have a response phrase for.

The rendezvous wasn't anything fancy or too shady. It was an old tavern, warmly lit with candles and music. The dust from the outside covered the furniture thinly, and some of the drinks even had a thin coating of ash on it, though nobody cared. He had left his cart with the town guards, after paying them to watch over it. In a sense, no-one would bother to look for it that way.

For a while Maeoni sat, quietly sipping his drink and gnawing on a Horker loaf. The sky was now dark. He wondered what had become of his client. His questions were answered by a tall, hooded figure that came looming over towards the table next to him. His presence alone drew all the attention, but after a wave of his hand and an odd whisper that echoed in the tavern, the customers resumed what they were doing, seemingly oblivious to the stranger's presence. The stranger grabbed a bottle of spiced wine, and drank with fervor. His hands were slightly green, but in the dark light Maeoni still couldn't tell what race he was. He was, however, sure that the stranger was no human.

The hooded stranger looked around slowly, observing the actions of everyone in the room. His eyes met Maeoni's who quickly averted his gaze, and stared intently at his Horker loaf. The hooded man seemed to chuckle to himself, and he slowly rose, and walked towards Maeoni's table.

"How's your Horker?" He asked. His voice had an odd, calm but demanding tone.

Maeoni didn't respond, and merely continued eating the Horker loaf; a silent gesture to tell him: "I want to be left alone."

The stranger then sat down in front of him. Maeoni could see now that the stranger was a high elf.

'Is he the one?' He wondered.

The high elf didn't say anything, but smiled at him expectedly. He then opened his mouth, and said the key phrase.

"He was vexed when he could not find it and went back to the Mourning Hold in secret anger, killing a mystic that asked about higher order."

Maeoni's eyes lit up in delight. He was going to get his gold.

"Nerevar, the Hortator, witnessed this and said, 'Why do this, milord? The mystics look to you for guidance. They work to make your temple better stoned.'"

The passphrase was done. Maeoni was ready discuss business. He smiled happily as he moved his Horker loaf to the side.

But the stranger was not finished.

"Vivec said, 'No one knows what I am.'" He said, suddenly solemn.

Maeoni raised both eyebrows at his client. He was silent for a moment, with a melancholic look in his eyes.

"Do you know what that was?" He asked him.

Maeoni shrugged. "I just know it to be your passphrase. It holds no importance to me. I will mostly likely forget this passphrase, like the millions of others before you, over a few bottles of wine." And with that, he took a sip from his cup.

The high elf continued.

"That was an extract from the thirty-six lessons of Vivec. His teachings influenced many Dunmer during their time after the war with the Dwemer."

Maeoni didn't care – or rather, he couldn't care. He simply had no interest in religious texts, as he lived in the life of now, and was not immediately concerned yet with the afterlife.

"That was from the thirtieth sermon. One of my favorites." The high elf's eyes were shining with small excitement.

"Well, that's very amusing – shall we get on with business?" Maeoni said, faking an interest.

"Yes, of course." The elf nodded, and drew out a bag of gold from inside his robes. It clunked loudly as it hit the table, but no-one turned to look.

Maeoni smiled, and he opened the bag, and inspected an estimate. His smile turned to a frown as he faced the high elf.

"This isn't nearly enough what I was promised." He snarled.

The high elf's expression remained neutral, as he replied.

"Five hundred gold. Just like I promised."

"Just like you promised!?" Maeoni slammed his fist on the table. This time, a few people turned to look at the sound, but quickly resumed to their talking.

Maeoni continued in a hushed but angry tone.

"You promised me I would get paid the worth of my job in gold. I know for a fact that this job alone was worth at least seven thousand gold!"

"There's no need to be angry – or whisper." The high elf said, as he reached for the wine. His hand was slapped out of reach by Maeoni's quick movements.

"My gold. My money. Now." He stated firmly.

The high elf didn't say anything, but his eyes showed a hint of raging fire, that quickly extinguished itself before Maeoni could notice his anger.

"I do not have such an amount with me as of now," He began.

"But I can promise you, that when if you ever reach the Summerset Isles-"

"Fuck the Isles!" Maeoni blurted out.

His mind burned with anger.

'How dare he?' He thought.

"Do you have any idea what I've risked to get your stupid corpse here in top condition? The amount of bribes that were paid, the amount of planning that was done, the-"

This time, it was Maeoni that was interrupted.

"Silence." The elf boomed. His voice seemed to echo inside Maeoni's head, and Maeoni felt like he had to calm down – or else.

The high elf rubbed his temples, and groaned in slight frustration. He began muttering, but Maeoni could only pick up a few words.

"…Don't have the time to convert iron into gold… Damn guards…"

The high elf put a hand inside his robe.

"I can only give you the five hundred I have already given you, and these gems." He said, and placed on the table five glistening diamonds.

Maeoni bit his lip. This was not the amount he was expecting. He cursed under his breath as he regretted his decision to take the job like this, not discussing the exact payment beforehand. He wanted to haggle a fortune out of his client, but things did not go according to his plan. He felt that if he denied the client, something bad would happen. Maeoni wasn't a man of superstition, but this time, his instincts told him otherwise.

Maeoni gripped his fist, and took the diamonds, and stood up.

"That's still not enough."

And with that, he dashed out of the store.

Vivec sat on the table, and sighed heavily. He would take another life today.

**To be continued**

***Rate, PM, Review, Follow, Etc plz. It helps me out a lot, especially on those cold, lonely nights where I cry myself to sleep.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Vivec opened the door and exited the tavern. It was dark, and he felt the night air cooling his body.

'He couldn't have gone too far…' He thought.

Vivec knew that sailing out of Solstheim was not an option. The time to prepare the boat alone, would take an hour at minimum. The streets were fairly empty, and the only people that still wandered around were mostly guards and beggars. Vivec whispered in dragon tongue, and he began seeing many more signs of life around him.

He saw one particular figure moving quickly towards the guard barracks.

"Found you." Vivec smiled.

Vivec dashed towards the barracks, at an inhuman speed, surprising nearby spectators. He grabbed Maeoni by the neck, and with the other hand, he muffled his mouth, as he tried to open the door to the barracks.

"I didn't want it to have come to this." Vivec whispered to him. He didn't want to draw attention yet.

"But you didn't leave me much of a choice." Maeoni was struggling greatly. Vivec frowned and pressed a dagger close to his stomach. Then Maeoni froze.

"Now you have two choices." Vivec continued. They were now out of sight, and the guards merely dismissed the event as a friendly scuffle between friends.

"You either tell me where the corpse is," Vivec pressed against Maeoni's belly. Maeoni squealed.

"Or I kill you in the many, many ways that I know how to." He finished.

And with that, Vivec slowly released his hand from Maeoni's mouth, releasing an explosion of words.

"The guards h-have it. I put it i-in a s-secret compartment installed i-in m-m-my w-wagon." He sputtered.

Vivec groaned. He hated dealing with guards. They were predictable, greedy, and stupid… But they worked in numbers, and had the capability to instill fear when needed.

"Anything else I need to know?" Vivec asked.

"The key to the c-compartment, i-in m-my left pocket." Maeoni was now regretting with all his life, and praying to the gods that he would make it out alive.

Vivec reached in and fumbled around, and fished out a dull, brass key that reflected the moonlight.

"My thanks." Vivec said, and grabbed Maeoni's mouth again, and with precise movements, he drew a line on his neck with the dagger. Maeoni struggled and tried to shout, but was met with the spluttering of blood from his arteries. His pupils dilated, and his body went limp. Vivec sighed as he began moving the body into a bush, and covered it up crudely with ash. The nights of Solstheim held many creatures, and he knew that by dawn, the body would be reduced to nothing but bones. He just needed to cover it up with ash so that no patrols would spot it from afar.

Checking for any blood that was splattered on his cloak, Vivec made his way back to the guard barracks.

In the darkness of the night, he knew that the guards would be too bothered to ask him the details of his identity. He could claim his package with less bloodshed.

"Halt! Who are you?" The guard in Bonemold armor asked.

"I'm the friend of a merchant checking out a cart he left here a while ago. May I enter?" Vivec replied, with skillful acting.

The guard seemed to be in a trance, but Vivec realized he was just drowsy. He nodded clumsily, and held the door open for him.

Vivec entered the room, and after glancing around to check that no-one was looking, he opened the secret compartment, revealing a mummified corpse, beyond recognition. Vivec sighed as he waved his hand, charged with magic, around the remains. And to his delight, the body hummed lightly.

'The proper reaction.' Vivec grinned. He was one more step closer to obtaining godhood.

**To be continued**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Bosmer shivered and cursed in his mind as he walked up the slopes of an icy spire. He carried his bow like a bag, slapped tight to his back.

He wondered if he made the right decision in leaving his employment. He was paid accordingly, but it was not the right amount. He didn't argue however, as he knew that the condition for the full payment was to be able to retrieve the artifact. He and the others had failed.

And while Shakh was won over by Nirn's powerful persuasions of promised power, more gold, honor and vengeance, Bosmer decided he would let go. Nirn's eyes had changed, and they were no longer the stern eyes of the she-elf that had hired them. They had a hint of obsession; that Bosmer knew that would eventually consume her.

'Why… how… What caused her to change so dramatically?' Bosmer wondered. He thought about it in her perspective: An aspiring mage who is determined to accomplish a mission, in exchange for a promised future in the most powerful magic organization in the world.

He snorted, causing small vapors to flash from his nostrils.

'I guess when they say that magic is dangerous; they mean it in different ways.' He thought.

With his teeth clattering fiercely, he peered through the blizzard to find shelter. Returning to his home in Riften would take quite a while. The carriage was gone, and he had no horse. He was forced to be adventurous.

His eyes began to water, and then freeze over. Bosmer rubbed his hands rapidly, and was surprised to find that he couldn't feel them. It wasn't this cold before, and he wondered what had caused the sudden change of magic. He had suspicions that this was a conspiracy in an attempt to make him return to Winterhold. He chuckled as he thought how ridiculous and impossible that sounded.

His smile faded as he snapped back to reality; the cold would kill him in an hour or so. He needed shelter – fast.

Gritting his teeth, Bosmer forced his legs to dash against the gale and his eyes darted around, looking for a cave – anything to hide himself in.

His heart sank as he saw nothing but heavy snow. Even if there was a cave, the snow would have hidden the entrance by now. He clumsily began stabbing the thick snow with the end of his bow, trying to determine which of them held a cave entrance, and which of them was just piled up snow.

As his fingers began hurting from the frostbite, he sighed in relief as his bow sank deep into a giant pile. Without thinking, he dove in, expecting the hard stone floor to catch him, and wake his senses with pain.

However, Bosmer was met with a dark abyss, and he fell.

**To be continued**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

The high elf woke up. Sweat dropped out of his forehead and chest rapidly. He looked around with his eyes – but his vision was blurry and poor. His body was aching due to the intense running and his stomach groaned painfully at his hunger. But most of all, he was thirsty. His tongue twitched in his mouth, and his throat was like sandpaper. Each breath he rasped out scratched against his esophagus, and he tasted blood.

He tried to move, but his legs did not respond. He was surprised at how thin he had become.

"You're awake?" A gruff voice asked.

The elf looked around, his eyes still faint. He could make out a black shape with his blurred vision.

He tried to speak, but began coughing instead.

The black shape rose slowly and brought a bottle to the elf's lips.

"Take it slowly. In small sips. There's plenty left so-"

The elf immediately began coughing rapidly as he sucked the water down like a madman. Blood and water spurted out of his mouth, and his eyes watered at the pain.

The blurred figure cursed under his breath and began wiping the water with a cloth.

"Thank you." The high elf said. He was still coughing, and his voice was so weak that the figure barely heard him.

"I suppose you are wondering why you're here." The stranger started, and sat down on a nearby chair.

The elf shook his head. "I remember being dragged down, but that was it." He said.

"That's all you remember?" The stranger asked.

"Yes… That is all." The elf answered.

For a moment, the two were silent. Many calculations and questions were raised in their minds, but not spoken.

It was the elf who spoke after the silence.

"Whose side are you on?" He asked bluntly.

His question was met with a snort, and the stranger left his chair.

'Where is he going? Is he going to kill me?' The elf thought. He was too tired to resist, and was sick of his life.

'At least it will be a peaceful death…' He thought to himself.

Much to his surprise, the stranger came back, holding a steaming bowl.

"How are your eyes?" The stranger asked.

"I feel them recovering slowly. Thank you."

The stranger put the bowl next to the elf, and handed him the spoon. With his eyes, the elf could make out a hairy face, with a long, brown beard.

Sweat trickled down the elf's neck.

'An Imperial…? Will he torture me for information? Hand me over to the Blades?'

The elf gripped his spoon tightly. He had hoped for a peaceful death, with minimal pain. But should this man were to torture him-

"Relax. I'm no soldier." The Imperial said.

"I know what **you** are though." He continued, as he began pouring himself a bowl of corn pottage.

"Aldmeri. Thalmor. Damn filthy elf." He stated each name bluntly, but the elf swore he heard him chuckle at the last remark.

"Why do you suppose I saved you?" The Imperial asked.

The elf grabbed his bowl of corn pottage and stared blankly into its yellow contents, glistening in the candlelight.

"I have no idea." He replied.

The Imperial snorted again.

"I thought you elves were supposed to be smart?" He teased him.

"I wasn't smart enough." The elf smiled bitterly.

The Imperial stopped suddenly, and stared at the elf intently.

"Do you read, elf?" He asked.

The elf raised an eyebrow. What was this man thinking?

"If you are asking about whether or not I am literate-"

"I didn't mean that." The Imperial interrupted.

"Do you read any literature? As a hobby?" He asked again.

The elf was more confused than before.

"I read often." The Imperial stated. He was answering his own question.

"It's all that I can really do in these mountains… It helps with my view on the world. It helps me see things with precision."

The elf didn't stop eating while the Imperial kept talking. It was clear he wasn't focusing.

"I know that you're that deserter they're looking for. You probably joined the Thalmor at a young age, hoping to solve the 'wrongs' of man. You were easily swayed by propaganda, and now you regret the blood on your hands, the innocents killed, and you can't sleep at night because of the screams that echo in your head."

The elf stopped eating this time. The room was dead silent.

The Imperial continued. "Your kinsman see you as nothing more than a useless coward who ran from battle, after killing your comrades. You have nowhere to go now, and now you welcome death. But fear still has a hold of you… That would explain your reaction when you saw what I am."

"And what of it?" The elf asked.

"So what if I'm a coward? So what if I'm a deserter who learned too late that the only use for a military is to be a killer of fathers and husbands?" The elf's eyes shook with anger. His emotions surpassed his weak body, and gave him a strong appearance.

The Imperial sighed.

"I saved you for the purpose of hoping to preserve another source of life. I'm sure that's something new to you, with you being more of a taker of life."

The elf was silent for a moment, as his mind automatically flashed images of the many people he had killed, all under the name of 'elven supremacy.'

"I was like you once." The Imperial continued.

"But after devastation, and falling into the hellish abyss known as guilt; I learned how to atone for my sins and to make sure I never became something like that ever again."

The elf asked: "What was your answer? Please, tell me how to be strong so that guilt will not haunt me."

"That is an answer you must find on your own." He answered.

The Imperial then rose, and began climbing up a nearby ladder that leaded to a trapdoor.

"I'll return soon. You should rest some more. If you get bored, there are books on the shelf behind you. Hopefully they will help you think for yourself, other than fighting battles for an unwanted cause."

**To be continued**


	19. Chapter 19

***Sorry I haven't been uploading. Game of thrones... Amirite? Hahahahahaha... ok sorry.**

**Chapter 19**

The room gave a calm chill. Normally, people would regard this temperature as 'uncomfortable', but not to Nirn. She sat in the middle of the room, focusing her mind in deep meditation. The first part of the contact spell. Breathing slowly, she began chanting. Vapors formed near her mouth, emitting an eerie glow; perhaps due to the magic being gathered.

Finally, she opened her eyes slowly, but her eyes gave a magical blue glow. She almost seemed blind.

However, through Nirn's eyes, she could see the whole council of the Psijic Order in front of her.

"The spell is complete." She stated.

The wizards nodded, sitting on their high pedestals.

"Now then." The mage on the far right started. He wore the standard green-yellow Psijic order robes, and his voice was old and raspy.

"Let's address the problem of this… Vivec." He finished.

The mage that sat next to him, a much younger mage with long, white hair spoke next.

"From what we have gathered, he is an Altmer mage, possibly a survivor of the Great War. It is likely that he has lived this long due to the effects of vampirism, but we can also confirm that he had cured himself of the condition-"

"Cured himself? Of vampirism?" The mage on the right interrupted. He immediately began coughing afterwards.

The younger mage responded after the coughing had stopped.

"Yes. Believe it or not, curing vampirism **is** possible. Also, it is not that difficult. It is simply a matter of thinking outside the limits of the mortal mind."

The wizard in the middle, whose face was covered up with a golden mask in the shape of a Dwemer Centurion, spoke next.

"It has been done before. By a Redguard human no less." His voice was deep and monotonous.

"Really? my, my, how impressive." The old elf chuckled to himself.

"Lord Aicmon, please continue." Nirn urged. The spell she was using to meet with them took a strain on her body the longer it lasted. She wanted this to end as fast as possible.

The mage with the white hair nodded, and continued.

"We do not know his true name yet, but from his combat techniques we can assume he is… Or was a Thalmor. His spells are very simple and focused on speed over power – reflective of his battlemage training. Other than that, he seems to have a dangerous amount of arcane knowledge."

"Indeed." The masked elf agreed.

"Not even the order realized such a ritual was possible by using the star of Azura."

"Wasn't the star returned to the priestess?" The elf that sat next to the masked elf questioned. To Nirn's surprise, the elf was a woman. What surprised her even more was the fact that she was the tallest of the elves that were gathered here.

"It seems it was lost during its delivery." The old elf muttered.

"What kind of ritual is this?" Aicmon asked the masked elf.

However, the female elf answered the question instead.

"The one who calls himself 'Vivec' has created what we can only describe as a… 'Artificial Dragonborn.' Though he has gained the knowledge on how to voice a shout, I deduct that it will have taken a toll on his lifespan."

"Yes. I believe I saw some of his blood in the caves." Nirn added.

The female elf nodded and continued:

"This ritual would have given him the power of a dragonborn, but it is only temporary. I suspect that he only has 2-3days left, until the dragon's soul rips him apart from the inside."

The old elf snorted.

"Then we have no quarrel with him. We just have to wait until he dies."

Aicmon smiled.

"I've been waiting on you to do the same, but you've proven me wrong twice already, outliving Nilhael and Andialmo."

The old elf glared at Aicmon, but did not say anything.

The masked elf brought back the order in the room.

"No. We must pursue this 'Vivec.' He has an ulterior motive. If gaining the power of the dragonborn was his goal all along, then why haven't we received any more reports of his attacks?"

A silence fell down unto the council as they nodded and murmured ideas to each other.

Nirn broke the silence.

"I've also received some info earlier this morning."

The mages all looked at her.

"What sort of info?" Aicmon asked.

"There's been a report of a grave robbery in Morrowind."

The old elf frowned.

"How is this relevant?"

"The grave… Was a secret grave guarded heavily by the Dunmer. It belonged to one of the Tribunal."

The female elf's eyes widened.

"Someone… Desecrated the graves?"

"When was this?" The masked elf asked her. His monotonous voice was slightly trembling.

"The grave itself was raided at the same night as when I was felled by 'Vivec'."

The old elf sank back in his seat.

"He planned this."

"Who did the grave belong to?" Aicmon asked.

Nirn was confused. She didn't expect the info to carry much of significance; she had a hunch that she should explain it to the council, and she was only following her gut.

"The grave belonged to Sotha Sil.

The masked elf stood up from his pedestal.

"Nirn, continue the pursuit of 'Vivec' as soon as possible. Aicmon, see to that she gains as much support as we can send her. Sanydil and Sirina, follow me."

Nirn frowned.

"What's happening? What does this mean?" She asked frantically.

Aicmon was about to answer her and opened his mouth, when the blue magical projection disappeared, leaving a cloud of blue dust.

In the college room, Nirn's eyes fluttered, and returned their normal color. She began panting and sweating rapidly, and she passed out in her bed.

**End of Chapter 19**


	20. Chapter 20

***It's short I know. But don't worry I'm uploading 2. This one is just going up earlier. The other one... Well... Wait about half a day.**

**Chapter 20**

Books lay scattered on the floor, with a young elf sitting on next to the huge pile. It was as if he was boasting the amount of knowledge he had gathered in the past three hours his host had left the cottage. The elf was interested in the particular collection of books the imperial had surrounded him with. During his apprentice mage years, he desperately tried to gather secret techniques and powerful spells from tomes as fast as he could, but produced little results in actual combat. The books in this shack however, weren't focused on magic entirely but gave him more ideas and knowledge about the arcane than any other books he had read before.

He especially grew interested in the sermons of the Chimer god, Vivec. The stories of his birth, rise to power and his end began to inspire the elf. He had hoped he would one day become determined for such a cause.

But questions began forming in his head. He had doubts of ever becoming so great and so powerful. He was jealous of Vivec's power-of how he would act, and the people would follow. The elf's situation was different: He would act, and his superiors would beat him.

'Why did I join this war?' He asked himself. The question sank into his heart, and left a sense of sadness in the elf's eyes. He had realized how foolish he was to have joined the Thalmor to begin with. He was nothing more than a pawn for the Aldmeri to show their 'elven supremacy.' His eyes began to water as he thought of the pain that had cost him during his time as a soldier. He was mindless, and was inspired by the false promise of greatness, like so many others before him.

He blinked and fought back the tears. He would be strong now. He would be the inspiration, not the inspirited.

He flipped another page and came across something he had never heard of before.

"CHIM?" Read out loud.

**To be continued.**

***MAY RUIN THE STORY FOR U (IT'S NOT A SPOILER)  
watch?v=9lyKxKn_WsE**


	21. Chapter 21

***Changed positions for my part time job. Chapters might take either longer or short than before. Sorry everyone. But remember, I don't want to half-ass this thing. I wanna do my best at this story so please try to be patient...**

**Chapter 21**

Bosmer lay paralyzed in the hard ice bottom of the cave. His muscles ached due to both the cold and the pain of the fall. He couldn't-didn't want to move. Death was slowly taking a hold of him. He was surprised at how relaxed he was. He had gained consciousness for a while now, but he feared that moving would disturb the peace his body felt at this moment.

'Dying like this… Pathetic…' He thought to himself.

It was the last thought of defiance that lingered in a body ready to die.

He knew that in his state, he could not exit the cave, and he could still hear the storm howling outside. The wall of snow at the entrance was the only thing that was keeping what little warmth that remained in the cave.

'Move dammit.' He told his body.

But it was useless. He imagined what would happen if he had died at this moment. No-one would miss him. He had no siblings, his parents had died when he was young, and he didn't keep in touch with his other relatives.

Bosmer managed a bitter smile as he realized the only people that would miss him were men who needed a tool to kill.

'All in all, I guess I made most of my life.' He smiled to himself, and then closed his eyes. Sleep would take the pain from him.

'Eternal sleep.' He thought.

With eyes closed, Bosmer lay still for a long time, awaiting his death. To his surprise, sleep did not come as easily as he expected.

He then heard the crunching of footsteps at the end of the cave.

"Is someone there?" A voice asked.

'A woman?' Thought Bosmer. She had his curiosity, but not his attention. His eyes began to shut slowly, this time against his own will.

"By the gods, are you alright?" The woman asked.

Bosmer didn't answer, but weakly blinked his eyes.

Through his failing vision, he could make out that the woman was a Nord with dark black hair. She carried an odd bow that shone with a magical glow, different to any other enchanted item he had ever seen.

His curiosity got the better of him, and Bosmer tried to move, but only managed to twitch a finger, followed by a sharp jolt of pain that woke his senses up.

"Here. Let me help." The woman grabbed Bosmer's arm on her shoulders, and began walking deeper into the cave. Her body was oddly cold, with almost no difference to the temperature of the ice around him.

Each step towards the cave woke Bosmer up from near death; as blood began rushing around his body again, friction generating the heat the body needed to thaw his senses.

"What where you doing out there? Did you fall down?" She asked.

Bosmer groaned at the fact that he could now speak. The woman frowned at him, and continued walking.

"We don't have many materials for a fire because my companion and I don't need it, but we'll try to get one going." She said.

'No fire? In this frozen hell? Are you crazy?' Bosmer thought to himself.

"We're here." The woman announced.

Bosmer looked up to see a very modest set-up of a camp: A small tent and a few packs lying around.

A man wearing an iron helmet with horns slowly came out of the tent. Bosmer managed to raise an eyebrow as he saw that the man's eyes had a yellowish-orange glow to them.

"Who's this?" The man asked. He had a thick Nord accent with a deep powerful voice.

"Found him outside the cave. He looked like he was about to freeze to death." The woman said, and she gently laid Bosmer on the furs on the cave floor.

The man approached Bosmer with a bundle of linen wraps and some cloth, and he set them ablaze after making a small pit, creating a makeshift campfire.

"I'll boil some hot water for him. Serana, try to find some wood or something."

The woman gave an exhausted groan, and began walking away.

"You're gonna be ok elf." The man answered.

Bosmer's eyes closed again, and he dreamt of the fire that was roaring in front of him.

**End of Chapter 21**


	22. Chapter 22

***WARNING! THIS CHAPTER IS A BIT DISTURBING! (GORE, BLOOD, ETC...) READ AT YOUR OWN RISK**

**Chapter 22**

Lielle stood next in front of the mummified corpse of the demigod Sotha Sil. She still had a hard time that such a thing even existed. Vivec stood beside her in silence, and they both admired the potential the corpse had.

"How did you know where it was?" She asked him.

Vivec ran his hands along the skull, tracing the facial features with a look that made Lielle flinch. He was like a sculptor, molding the clay.

"The dark elves – previously known as the Chimer, are a very resourceful race. Clues were left within history books. It just takes time and a shitload of theory to hypothesize a conclusion."

Lielle gave him a puzzled look, which Vivec didn't answer. Vivec then began pacing around the corpse, touching the tools that were laid next to it slowly. There were a variety of different tools, some were easily distinguishable as embalming tools, and others were a mystery.

"Are you sure this will work?" She asked.

Vivec stopped and smiled, but didn't answer. He then grabbed a hooked knife made of Dwemer metal and began cutting the bandages carefully off the corpse, while pouring a clear, hot liquid from a bottle over the skin.

Lielle crossed her arms and leaned against the wall.

This was going to take a while.

After the torso was fully stripped and covered in the fluid, Vivec finally spoke.

"I must say, still cannot believe I have achieved this."

Lielle smiled lightly. Vivec, without facing her, knew she had smiled.

"All those decades, literal billions of theory, millions of practice on lesser things… And now…" He flexed his arm, and cut a line around his shoulder, making a full circle around the arm.

"It's been that long? It didn't feel that long." She said.

"It was long enough."

Vivec began the removal of bandages again.

"I'm still worried." Lielle confessed.

Vivec glanced over his shoulder, while his hand went for the Nordic embalming saw.

"Why?" He asked.

"That was all just theory… No-one can truly predict actual magic… Who knows what kind of damage-"

She was interrupted by the violent scraping noise of the saw cutting through bones.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take. The dragon's soul was not meant for this use, you know that."

"Yes but-"

"Could you grab the bottle with the blue liquid for me?"

Lielle bit her lip. She wanted to protest, but she did as she was told.

As she brought the bottle in front of Vivec, she saw that the corpse was now completely naked; revealing a heavily rotten and disfigured face, with features that barely resembled an elf's.

She scrunched up her nose at the smell of the chemicals, and wondered how Vivec managed to stay focused under the influence.

"All done." Vivec stated, as he dropped the saw onto the table.

Lielle sighed, and rubbed her temples. It was her turn.

"Turn around please." She said.

Vivec turned around, with eyes full of anticipation and a slight but powerful smile. It wasn't a smile of joyful child however, but a smile of a tyrant whose victory has been ensured.

Vivec's body had now been carved with various runic symbols, with his chest faintly glowing red, still under the influence of the dragon's soul.

Lielle grabbed a towel and wrapped it around a wooden rod, and put it in Vivec's mouth.

"Bite hard. Try not to flinch as much."

Vivec mumbled something, and Lielle gave him a soft peck on the cheek, and then began cutting his arm off with a saw.

Immediately, Vivec began screaming, and his voice echoed inside his body through the gag in his mouth.

Lielle clenched her teeth as she began sawing faster, with tears in her eyes. She knew those screams would stay with her forever.

Three hours had passed, and Lielle was on the floor with vacant, teary eyes, and nose full of snot. Vivec was on the table in front of her, however, his right arm, half his torso, and his left leg were replaced with Sotha Sil's.

He sat upright, eyes closed, in a meditating position. There was a pool of blood underneath him, and the mixed smell of gore and the embalming chemicals stung their noses.

Lielle's finger twitched slightly and Vivec's head snapped to her direction.

Lielle's eyes gained focus as she looked at him.

"Are you alright?" asked Vivec.

Lielle tried to smile, but ended up crying again.

Vivec sighed in relief, and came down from the table and sat beside her, putting his arm around her. She leaned on his shoulder, resting her head on him.

"It's over. You don't need to suffer anymore." Vivec whispered softly.

Lielle closed her eyes slowly.

"I've already won." Vivec announced.

**End of Chapter 22**


	23. Chapter 23

***This one is short. But I released 3 in a day so... Screw that.**

**Chapter 23**

Nirn steadied her trembling horse in the bitter cold of Winterhold. It was rare to see the small town not being attacked by a snowstorm. She was amazed at how peaceful it looked. Shakh began riding slowly to her on his hulking crimson horse that befitted his stature. Nirn knew that at least several weeks would be needed until she could contact the Psijic Order again, so to not waste this time, she decided to pursue Vivec herself, with the help of her two 'companions.'

"Where to?" Faren asked her. He rode his horse with a bitter look on his face; Nirn wondered why he seemed so pissed: her experiments on him, or just the cold.

"Not too sure… We first ride to the cave in which Vivec walked out of. We need some clues to his location." Nirn answered.

"We ride then." Shakh grunted and pulled at his reins. The monstrous horse dashed across the snow with footsteps that pounded into the snow violently.

Nirn and Faren followed; a step closer to challenging a god.

**End of Chapter 23**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

The Psijic Order was busy. For the first time in a long period of boring ages, they were met with a challenge that threatened all of Tamriel. Dragons were appearing, a civil war erupted in Skyrim, and a deadly magic artifact was found in the deeps of Saarthal. However, this was one of the most interesting findings so far: A mortal attempting to take godhood. A few eras ago, the Order would have laughed at the notion, and would have disregarded the danger as something 'not worth looking into.' Trying to stay neutral to worldly events while researching the arcane in peace, over the ages, time had taught them it was almost impossible to live in the world without the burden of responsibility of the world. All great organizations were sought out for their potential and power, and the Psijic Order was no exception. Mages were recruited to fight in wars, artifacts were abused, and magic secrets were exposed.

Aicmon was one of the few that believed that the Psijic Order should act accordingly to worldly crises, albeit they posed a threat to Tamriel, and not limited to a piece of land.

'After all, what use is power if not demonstrated?' He thought.

With a giant pile of books about the Tribunal beside him, Aicmon was in the middle of writing information and theories of the new Vivec's abilities. He was struggling to find out how this would work. With not much revealed about this new threat, he wondered how he would stand against him.

"Aicmon." A raspy voice called from behind him. It was old Sanydil.

"Sanydil." Aicmon nodded a greeting to him.

Sanydil took his time walking towards him, slowly on his cane. The cane was actually a magic staff, designed by him, capable of summoning a powerful frost giant, however only three times. Sanydil had one last time to summon it.

"The others are ready to get to Vivec immediately." Sanydil stated.

"You've found out where he is? How did you find out quickly?" Aicmon asked.

"Our leader has… Pulled a great deal of favors. From various guilds and organizations. We've reached a conclusion that Vivec currently resides in Solstheim."

"Which organizations?"

Sanydil frowned before answering.

"It wounds me to admit that the thieves' guild was involved… Also the dark brotherhood."

Aicmon snorted.

"That's a first."

"That is." Sanydil agreed.

Aicmon began writing a letter of Vivec's location for Nirn.

"We go by portal. It's taken us hours to stabilize it, so make sure to be there on time, before it collapses on itself." Sanydil announced, and he began walking away.

Aicmon shoved the letter into the messenger box, and stood up from his chair.

**End of Chapter 24**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

The high elf was on his 52nd book, researching about CHIM, when the imperial came back. He carried a sack behind him, and grunted with each movement.

"I've brought some food." He said, as he happily landed the sack on the floor.

"Also some other things. Important things." He added.

The high elf nodded, but didn't care. He had one thing on his mind.

"What's a CHIM?" he blurted out.

The imperial's eyes widened, but then turned into a smile.

"No-one knows for sure." He replied.

The imperial then walked towards the high elf, and began stacking up the books on the floor.

"But some theories claim," The imperial continued.

The elf began to help gather the books.

"That it's the highest form of love."

"Love?" The elf frowned.

"Love makes you powerful?"

The imperial laughed and nodded.

"Believe it or not, that kind of love does. Although other people claim it's a form of enlightenment, a form of higher knowledge."

The elf raised his eyebrows.

"That sounds more reasonable."

The imperial smiled.

"Where's your sense of poetry?"

"Why do you say its love?" The elf asked, puzzled.

This time, the imperial didn't smile.

"Have you ever been in love, elf?" He asked.

The high elf stared at him a while, and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

The imperial snorted.

"Do you even know what love is?"

Again, the high elf did not speak.

The imperial stopped stacking the books.

"I'll tell you what it is. First; there are various forms of love. Mara's love, as the priests say, is the love of compassion. It's what keeps a good marriage going, and it's the kind of love that bonds men and women together in happiness."

The elf nodded. He also stopped stacking the books.

"Secondly there's Dibella's love. The kind you youngsters love."

The elf smirked at his remark.

"Lust." The imperial tutted.

"Lust is poison." He muttered.

"And then there's the CHIM." The imperial finished.

The elf sat upright. Hearing the word come out of another man's mouth interested him. He was obsessed with its existence.

However, to his disappointment, the imperial stopped talking, and began stacking the books again.

The elf frowned.

"What is the CHIM?" He asked.

"I told you. A form of love." He answered with a smirk.

"But you didn't tell me what form that is!" The elf protested.

"I didn't tell you because I don't know myself." The imperial replied.

The elf was stunned. But he didn't give up.

"Surely, you know at least **something**!?"

The imperial stopped stacking the books again. The silence filled the cottage. After a long breath, he spoke.

"You elves."

The high elf frowned.

"You believe yourselves to be ancestors of the gods, so that you hope to become like them somehow. But you're all so blind."

"What do you mean?" The elf questioned.

"'"Let me show you the power of Talos Stormcrown, born of the North, where my breath is long winter. I breathe now, in royalty, and reshape this land which is mine. I do this for you, Red Legions, for I love you.'" The imperial quoted.

"Talos? The man?"

"Yes. How did you think he became a god?"

The elf paused to think. No words came to his mind.

"See? Your elven ways don't teach you that. They ban it actually." The imperial grunted, and began taking out various supplies from the sack, and organized them around the cottage.

"Assuming he did-"

"There's no assuming." The imperial turned to face him this time, his eyes dead serious.

"Ok, how did he do it?" The elf asked.

"Did he find out some ancient Dwemer secret? Did he make a pact with a Daedra? What happened?"

"CHIM happened." The imperial answered.

"CHIM?" The elf questioned.

The imperial frowned. He had expected the elf to stay silent after the answer.

"Yes, CHIM."

"You still haven't explained what that is." The elf stated.

The imperial rubbed his eyebrows.

"This is… My theory." He began explaining.

The elf nodded slowly.

"Go on."

The imperial sat down.

"The CHIM, is a form of love, but others call it a form of enlightenment, or a state of power. I think it's what true gods feel when they look at us mortals. True gods feel love towards us. They pity our short lifespans, and what little we accomplish in those times. True gods look at us and try to help us-try to make us understand a god's perspective on the world."

"But the Daedra don't feel love for us. They look at us like toys, if anything." The elf muttered.

"True gods, elf. Not measly Daedra." The imperial replied.

"Why do you think Lorkhan was involved in the creation of Nirn?" He continued.

The elf said nothing.

"It was an attempt to obtain CHIM." He said.

"Did it work?"

"He had his heart ripped out, you tell me." The imperial said, and he rose again, to organize his supplies.

**End of Chapter 25**


	26. Chapter 26

***Progress is slow, I know. I'm sick right now (again) and I had to work longer at my job than expected because they couldn't find a replacement in time... On a side note, I'm surprised at the amount of people still supporting me! Thank you so much all of you. I will continue to write this fanfic for you guys, because I am lonely and sometimes I cry in bed and I mutter in my sleep and-**

**anyway thanks.**

**Chapter 26**

Nirn's group took shelter in the mouth of the cave, as they began searching it for clues. Without the vampires, the cave seemed quiet, and only the howling of the blizzard could be heard. Shakh stood close to the horses, leaning against the cave wall, picking his nails with his massive axe. Nirn and Faren were deeper inside, using their magic to detect any traces of magic left behind.

"This is where he turned into a dragonborn…" Nirn murmured.

Faren turned, the candlelight spell bouncing off his gray Dunmer skin.

"I've found something!"

Nirn raised an eyebrow and walked towards Faren, who was pointing at a pile of blood, still wet and surrounded by a great pile of vampire dust.

Nirn crouched down and ran her fingers along the pool of blood, and her fingertips began glowing. Her eyes widened.

"This is… His blood." She gasped.

"Someone actually managed to scratch him?" Shakh laughed from afar.

"No… It looks like it was used in some kind of ritual. Maybe this is a clue as to how he gained his powers." Faren added.

"Can you figure out what exactly happened here?" Faren asked.

Nirn closed her eyes and began to focus. The Psijic order had many spells, and some of them were very effective in their use of arcane investigation. If the mage was talented enough, he or she could find out what magic was used, and how – as long as there was some residual magic left in the area.

Several images flashed in Nirn's head as she ran her glowing fingers along the blood. A moon and a sun, the imposter Vivec, and the face of an old high elf she didn't know.

Before she could make sense of what her vision was, her eyes fluttered open. The spell had stopped. She had run out of magicka. Nirn sat still for a moment, her blank face reflecting in the blood, then she stood up.

"We're leaving." She said.

"To where?" Shakh asked.

"It's just a hunch but… We need to go to Azura's shrine."

"You think a Daedra will help us?" Faren snorted.

"No." Nirn replied.

"If I'm right, she will have no choice to."

**End of Chapter 26**

**Shout out to Hotasthesun and JAPPLEGATE (I don't know what that means.)**


	27. Chapter 27

***It's a long one. I mean the deuce I took this morning, not the chapter.**

**Chapter 27**

Vivec walked out from the hideout cottage in the middle of the ashlands. Leaving a sleeping Lielle inside the hideout, he ran his eyes on the horizon slowly. He sensed something. His new abilities told him that something was coming, but he did not yet know what.

After the final experimentation, his eyes seemed to have gained more depth, and he carried a more silent and demanding presence around him. He no longer saw the world with mortal eyes. His perspective of the world was changing rapidly, but he was glad that it did not change his views of his ultimate goal.

Vivec walked towards the ash hill where the sun would rise. It was almost dawn, and he felt more and more uneasy. Inside his body, his magical senses began to vibrate and hum rapidly – something no ordinary being would be able to notice. He could see the air around his give a bluish haze, the whole area being targeted for something.

'For what?' He thought.

He pondered upon the possibilities. It was no mere magical anomaly. His senses told him otherwise. A significantly great amount of magic was being gathered here, and the humming grew louder inside his head, a song only he could hear, performing a crescendo.

At the peak of its song, the music snapped in his mind, and several blue figures began forming around him. The blue figures quickly steadied their form, turning into a group of high elves, dressed in the gold-green robes of the Psijic order.

They finished teleporting around him, and Vivec counted twelve mages.

"It looks like we caught him off guard." A mage said. And with that, he grasped hold of a ball of fire in his hand, ready to strike.

Aicmon frowned. He was desperate, and his positive thinking began to judge his thoughts. Did they really make it in time? Can they still stop him from getting the power of gods?

Before he could give a command, Sanydil tapped his cane on the ash, spraying dust around him. At the tip of his cane, the soul gem cracked and hissed, and shot a beam of lightning at Vivec's feet, which rapidly shape-shifted into an abnormally huge frost giant.

Vivec remained calm, as he looked around him. He was right. Something **was** coming for him. From the looks of things, it was the Psijic order. He looked up at the frost giant, and looked at the other mages. They were all prepared for battle, but each of them was nervously grasping a spell. They were waiting. Waiting to see what he could do.

Vivec closed his eyes, and ran his fingers along the air. He could feel things he had never felt before – magicka existed everywhere. He could see blue particles that were invisible to the mortal eye. He felt something that closely resembled a pile of strings around him, and the moment he touched them, the godly parts of his body instinctively told him what he could do.

Sanydil couldn't wait any longer. Although they were just the first of ten groups sent ahead to test Vivec's abilities and look for a weakness, should he have attained godhood, he refused to wait until Vivec made the first move. Pushing his cane forward, he commanded the giant to bring down its club, made from enchanted ice.

The giant's club would have burst Vivec's skull into pieces if they were a day early in their arrival.

Vivec's fingers twitched for an instant, pulling a sting ever so slightly, and in an instant, the giant's head pulled itself off, like a sabre cat tearing the meat in a beautiful yet grotesque manner. There was no blood, as the giant's body dissolved into nothingness, its existence erased with it finally being free of the powerful magic that trapped its soul in the staff.

The head never reached the ground before it dissolved.

The twelve elite mages acted immediately, on a single pure, ancient instinct that guided mortals since the beginning of time: Danger. Kill.

Twenty four bolts of magic, each different in every color, swirled towards Vivec, forming patterns and shapes in the air, like a beautiful painting. Vivec tore his arms across him, like cutting an invisible wall of paper, and the magic missiles swerved out of the way, exploding in the dust upon impact.

Panic, chaos and violence ensued between the two forces. The order's mages began relentlessly casting spells at him – anything and everything their vast history of knowledge taught them.

Sanydil and Aicmon both gritted their teeth and cursed the fact that they were too late. His powers were well beyond anything they could comprehend. They were giving it their all, but Vivec was expressionless, his face not even acknowledging the existence of this battle.

With each barrage of spells, Vivec simply redirected them to the ground, or to the mages, with a simple wave of his hand.

The continuous combo of spells missed a tempo, as one of the mages skipped casting for a second.

And that was all Vivec needed.

Vivec's eyes glowed an intense white as he glared at the incompetent elf. His lips formed the words:

"Die."

The elf, looking back at Vivec gave a puzzled look, which was instantly twisted into a grimace and pain. He clutched his chest and roared in pain so loud that the dust on the ground shifted. He clenched his eyes shut when-

His body tore away into a dust of magicka, and faded into the air.

This time, all the mages stopped.

They stared at Vivec, their fear now greater than ever. He was toying with them. He had just turned one of them into pure magicka – the concept, the idea, the genius of itself being purely insane. There was no blood, no bones and no flesh. Even his soul was converted into a simple energy source, that was scattered into the air, now a part of the realm of Nirn forever. Nothing like that had ever been done before – not even by the true Vivec, or the Daedra.

They gave it their all, and to the demigod, he met them with an effort comparable to a small child squashing a bug. It was effortless. His power was so pure.

He was complete.

**End of Chapter 27 **


	28. Chapter 28

***Hello everyone. Warper95 here... I don't even know where to begin;;;**

**First off, I'd like to say I'm really sorry for the lack of uploads this past... months... I really have no excuse for this, unless you can call 'not in the mood to write' an excuse. And it's not fair to you guys because I already have the story planned out in my head, so I don't really need extra time to sort out plot points, weave the story onwards, etc. I'm really thankful for those who still kept reading my stuff.**

**Also... Some more news that will make you guys hate me;;;**

**First off, I'm entering in a short story competition soon, (I'm' not going to provide any details not upload the story anywhere here.) so I will focused on that for a while. Furthermore, I have assignments! (Yes, I'm in college, slaving away uselessly as I wait until I graduate and become a hobo.) I don't know if I should be lucky or not, but the papers I'm taking thankfully has no examinations - at the cost of a buttload of assignments to work on. So I'll still be quite busy for a long, long while.**

**HOWEVER! (here's the good part.)**

**I am far from done. I'm gonna finish this thing one way or another. This will never be left unfinished. I don't care how long it takes lol.**

**I'm just wondering what I would do after all this... Maybe do short stuff... Why the hell did I chose something so long as my 'first' fanfiction... (around chapter 20 I realized I would have to either focus my brains out on completing this 'not-even-proof-read-crap-story', or I cut out some of the filler. I chose the latter, and I'm quite happy with my decision. I just need to create a balance of character developments and stuff though. I know I did those so horribly, and wish I could re-write previous chapters so bad -_-;;)**

**Anyway, hope u enjoy what short chapter that is uploaded so far.**

**Chapter 28**

A few months had passed since the high elf had stayed in the imperial's house. He had finished reading all of his books, and had somewhat become accustomed to this new, simple and primitive life. He could discuss philosophy with his new friend, whom he still did not know the name of-yet it did not matter. There were times when the elf missed his family, but he knew it was too late to find them. The punishment for desertion extended to his family. He knew that only too well.

One day, the elf waited for the imperial to return from his normal hunting trip. He was eager to discuss more of the philosophy of Vivec with his friend, but his eyes widened at the sight of him stumbling towards the hut, with a mountain of arrows in his back.

"By the divines! What-"

"No time to explain! They're onto us!"

"Who?"

"Thalmor! Now move down to the basement!"

The imperial urged him down the hatch, as the elf watched his friend cough blood with terrified eyes.

Once the elf was in the hatch, the imperial slammed it shut, locking the trapdoor.

"What about you?" The elf asked. But he knew the answer already.

The imperial said nothing for a moment, taking in the world's beauty around him for the last time. The green forests, the singing of the birds, and the distance splash of the stream never seemed more peaceful to him that day.

"Listen." He began.

"What?"

"Listen… There's… Someone I'd like you to take care for me." He started.

"How many are there? Let me fight them! I can take them out, trust me! I'm not the same elf you met-"

"No!" The imperial snapped.

From a distance, the trees began shuffling, startling some of the animals in the woods. The birds stopped singing.

"There is a small village southwest of this hut. I know someone there. A woman, who is also a victim of this war, like you. Tell her-"

Blood spluttered further from the imperial's mouth. In the distance, faint footsteps could be heard.

"Tell her that Plavo sent you… She is weak. Weaker than you were when you first arrived here. And she may be frightened to see an elf so use caution-"

Plavo never finished, as the arrow found its mark straight into his lung.

And with the last of his strength, Plavo waved a spell around the trapdoor, hiding it from the five senses.

When the Thalmor arrived, they looked at the dead body of the imperial and laughed, but quickly fell angry that they could not find the deserter.

Underneath them, in the basement, the elf's teary eyes grew with flames of vengeance.

**End of Chapter 28**


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